


All the Little Lights

by fuzzballsheltiepants



Series: Light Shining in the Dark [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: But whatever, Christmas, Demisexual Neil Josten, Demisexuality, M/M, No clue why I'm posting Christmas in May, Soft andrew, mildly nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 20:43:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14601315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzballsheltiepants/pseuds/fuzzballsheltiepants
Summary: The follow up to The Test, where Andrew brings up the "willing versus want to" question with Neil and they visit a Christmas light show.





	All the Little Lights

**Author's Note:**

> For non-Americans: yes, drive-through Christmas light shows like this exist (I have no idea if they do in other countries but somehow it seems very American to me). I picture Andrew and Neil as atheists, no offense intended there.
> 
> The title comes from the Passenger song of the same name.
> 
> "We're born with millions of little lights shining in the dark  
> And they show us the way  
> One lights up  
> Every time we feel love in our hearts  
> One dies when it moves away"

“Hey, can I drive?”  
  
Andrew grumbled but walked around to the passenger side.  “You have your keys?”  
  
Neil unlocked the car as evidence and they settled into their seats.  Andrew watched him as he carefully drove out of the empty stadium lot, sticking to the driving lanes as if the parking spaces were full of cars.  He even drove not to draw attention, always signaling, always traveling at average speeds, moving with traffic.  Coming to a complete stop at every sign.  It was funny, really; the Maserati had about as much chance of blending in with the pickup trucks and Hondas as Neil did in a crowd.  Andrew would allow him his illusions though.  
  
Neil’s cheeks were flushed and his hair was still damp from his shower, curling slightly around his ears.  Andrew didn’t ask how practice with Kevin went; he didn’t have to, judging by the way Kevin slammed his locker shut and Neil looked almost giddy.  Neil had taken to practicing at backliner on occasion, and he with his speed and aggression was proving a surprisingly good match against Kevin despite the height difference.  Andrew was almost sorry he’d missed it.  
  
They got off the highway just a few exits up and Andrew glanced at Neil sharply.  “You know I hate surprises.”  
  
“I know.  But this is really more for me.  I want you to come with me and I know if I tell you where we’re going you’ll mock me.”  He sounded more amused than upset but Andrew was stuck on the word want.  Andrew studied his profile, thinking about Bee’s words from an hour ago.    
  
_There are a lot of reasons he might not choose to say that word.  Perhaps he thinks it would be too much like a demand_.  Andrew hadn’t known how to process that, or any of the other possibilities she presented.  _You’ll have to ask him, Andrew.  Just don’t assume that his drive and needs will mirror yours_.  
  
“Fine,” he finally answered.  “But I’m not sitting on Santa’s lap, so get that idea out of your head right now.”  
  
Neil laughed, then glanced at him, the little confused crinkle appearing between his eyes.  “Wait, people do that?”  
  
Fury surged up Andrew’s throat and he swallowed it back.  If he could revive Neil’s parents and kill them again he would do it in a heartbeat.  Even he had visited Santa a couple of times as a young child, when his foster siblings had clamored for it.  Before he had learned to fear the touch of men.  “Children do.  To ask for presents.”  
  
“Huh.”  
  
Outside of Greenville Neil turned onto a back road, eventually coming to a large field that was lit up like a high school football field.  As they approached, it organized into a vast arrangement of Christmas lights.  Andrew turned to Neil.  “Seriously?”  
  
Neil shrugged, slowing to a crawl as they neared the entrance.  “You said you like the lights.  I’ve never really paid attention to them, except how they might affect hiding spots.  I just wanted to see what they’re like.”  
  
Andrew didn’t try to hide his eye roll, but Neil just grinned at him then paid ten bucks to enter the light display.  They crept along, one of a long line of cars, into a rather eclectic collection of lights and decorations.  There was a sign telling them to turn the radio to 103.5 and Neil reached for the stereo.  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Andrew said when the strains of Joy to the World came through the speakers at the stupidly low volume Neil preferred.  Neil ignored him.  “Fine.  But if Jingle Bell Rock comes on you’re walking home.”  
  
The display was just as gaudily ridiculous as Andrew had always assumed these would be.  Brightly colored cartoon characters in festive holiday garb gathered around lit trees.  When they drove past a large manger scene, Neil looked at it in distaste.  “I’ve never understood this.  Didn’t all this happen in the Middle East?”  
  
“I hate to break it to you, but the virgin birth, wise men, messiah bullshit never happened at all.”  
  
“Jesus was a historical figure, though.”  
  
“Okay, sure.  What’s your point?”  
  
“I spent some time in Egypt and Israel.”  Of course he did.  “Nobody there is this white.”  
  
Andrew huffed a quiet laugh.  “In America, Jesus is white, goddamn it, and don’t you forget it.”  
  
Neil shook his head, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “This fucking country.”  
  
They drove around a curve and found themselves in an alley of white lights that arched overhead.  Animals made of lights were dotted amongst the trees.  Neil’s eyes came alive as he noticed them, pointing out reindeer and bunnies, cats and donkeys and birds.  Andrew resisted it for a minute but when Neil missed a cleverly hidden dog, Andrew felt compelled to point it out to him.  The smile Neil gave him in response… Andrew could write a user’s guide to Neil’s smiles, but this one was his alone.  He wanted to shy away from the ache it caused him; he wanted to make him smile again, to poke at the ache like he would a bruise, watching it fade and reappear.  
  
As they approached the turn there were three life-sized camels made of wicker and lights.  Andrew couldn’t help but crane his neck to look at them as they passed.  Neil hit the brakes, stopping to stare for a good fifteen seconds, similarly entranced.    
  
The last turn brought them down an enormous inflatable horror show, with waving snowmen, dancing reindeer, and a train.  Neil jolted the brakes, his eyes caught on something farther down the row, and he started to laugh as he eased the car into motion again.  Andrew scanned the various cartoon atrocities until he saw it: a reindeer, ostensibly pulling Santa out of a chimney, but Santa’s head never got above the reindeer’s waist, he just bobbed up and down a few inches, looking for all the world like he was giving the reindeer a blow job.  
  
“I guess that solves the mystery of why the reindeer are willing to drag a fat man and millions of presents all over the world in one night,” Andrew observed dryly.    
  
Neil was still laughing as they drove past the enormous decorated evergreen with the huge star on top that signaled the end of the display.  “There’s a gift shop,” he offered, and Andrew flipped him off.  In a few minutes they were back on the highway, heading towards Columbia.    
  
“Finally,” Andrew muttered.  
  
“Oh, come on, those camels were cool.”  
  
Andrew said nothing, because he couldn’t disagree; briefly he pictured them overwhelming his front yard, and the reactions the neighbors would no doubt have.  He switched the music back to something tolerable but he could not get his brain to shut up.  Even talking to Bee had not rid him of Neil’s voice saying _willing to, willing to, willing to_.  Four days of it sneaking between them with every kiss, every touch.  Four days of him pulling back and Neil not questioning, not seeking more, just that quiet acceptance that Andrew needed and resented in equal measure.    
  
After dinner of leftover Chinese eaten on the couch, Neil settled in with his laptop while Andrew tried to watch a movie Boyd had been raving about.  The actors couldn’t hold his attention; his eyes kept finding themselves fixed on Neil’s profile, until finally Neil closed his laptop and paused the movie.  “What’s bothering you?”  Andrew looked at him flatly.  “Come on, Drew, I know you.  Something’s been bothering you since we went to the clinic.”  
  
Andrew didn’t answer right away.  None of Bee’s suggested openings felt right in his mouth.  Neil moved to sit with his back against the arm of the couch, one knee pulled to his chest, face soft, patient.  “When you said you were willing to sleep with me,” Andrew started, the words tasting strange.  _This would be so much easier if I didn’t care_.  The thought sliced like a blade; he remembered two years of not caring, of not being able to hold on to caring, only memory of a promise keeping him tethered.  This was different.  He chose this tether, every day he was choosing this.  “Why did you say willing to, and not want to?”  
  
Neil shifted, looking — not exactly uncomfortable, but self conscious.  “It’s the same thing, really.”  
  
“You’re the linguist,” Andrew countered, “you know it’s not.”  
  
“It almost is.”  Neil sighed, fingers tapping his shin in a staccato rhythm.  “I don’t know, it’s not like I thought about my word choice in that particular moment.”  
  
But Neil was always aware of his words.  He almost never slipped between his languages.  Hell, he almost never slipped between his accents.  Meanwhile Nicky would sometimes drop German in accidentally and both Andrew and Aaron would mix random English words into their German.  Neil only did that when exhausted and relaxed, or if he’d been drinking.  Then conversations with him often involved three or four languages and a guessing game as to what he was actually trying to say, but that was rare.  It seemed impossible that in the tension of that moment he hadn’t known what he was saying.  
  
Andrew’s expression must have said as much.  Neil glanced at the still scene on the TV, the newsreel-like image of a man in a train station.  His brow furrowed.  “I’ve been there,” he said.  “That’s Waterloo Station.  It’s near where my Uncle Stuart lives.”  
  
“Nice deflection,” Andrew muttered.    
  
Neil grumbled as he rubbed his face.  “I don’t know what to say, Andrew.”  He let his head drop against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling for a moment before turning back to meet Andrew’s eyes.  “I mean, I listen to the guys talking, the girls too, for that matter.  They’re always talking about sex, who’s hot, who they want to fuck or whatever.  People they don’t even know, like famous people.  And it all sounds so fake to me.  Seriously, do people really think like that?”  
  
Andrew didn’t know what he had been expecting, but this was not it.  He wasn’t sure how it was supposed to be an answer to his question.  “People like to fantasize about attractive people,” he said cautiously.  “It’s mostly harmless.”  
  
“But why?  I mean, they’re never going to meet them in real life most of the time.”  
  
“Don’t you think jacking off is more fun when you picture someone while you do it?”    
  
The look on Neil’s face was comical.  Andrew couldn’t figure out why he seemed so shocked.  He wondered what Neil would say if he realized that half the college exy fans in America of both genders were thinking about him at least some of the time their hand was in their pants.  And the other half were probably picturing Allison.    
  
“Um,” was the only response.  
  
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you take the longest showers I’ve ever seen.”  
  
“What?”  Neil blinked at him in confusion.  “Oh!  Oh, no, I just like the hot water.”  
  
Definitely not the right time to tell him how Andrew spent his showers, then.  “You don’t think about someone when you jack off?  Or you don’t jack off.”  
  
“No, and not really.  I mean, I have, but not in a while.”  
  
Andrew didn’t know how they had ended down this track, and he forced himself to pull away from the image of Neil tugging on himself with the flushed face and dazed eyes he was so familiar with.  “This is you answering my question?”  
  
“This is me trying to, if you’d shut the fuck up and let me talk, yeah.”  Andrew clamped his mouth closed, and Neil gave him an exasperated look before continuing.  “What I was trying to say is, I don’t want sex like that, the way other people seem to.  I’m never going to, it doesn’t even make sense to me.  But I want you.  I want whatever you’re comfortable offering.  It’s all good, as far as I’m concerned.  So yeah, when you’re ready, I’m willing, but I never want more than you want to give.  Does that make sense?”  
  
Before he met Neil, Andrew had never understood the concept of good pain, no matter how well-schooled he was in all its other forms.  But this ache that had taken up residence under his sternum, that flared every time Neil smiled or laughed or stared at him with that look in his eyes or said something so impossibly perfect — that was good pain.  “One hundred and thirty two percent,” he said, and if his voice betrayed him Neil didn’t show it.  
  
He picked up the remote and re-started the movie.  Before Neil could grab his laptop, Andrew opened his arm in invitation.  Neil tucked himself into Andrew’s side, pressing their thighs together and resting his head on Andrew’s shoulder.  They had just started sitting like this and Andrew was surprised how much he liked it.  Judging by the way Neil melted against him, he felt the same way.  Andrew let himself drop a light kiss on Neil’s hair before turning his attention to the screen.  
  
When the credits rolled, neither of them stirred.  He wondered for a moment if Neil had fallen asleep, until Neil said quietly, “I never thought I’d have this.”  He twisted his head so he could look at Andrew, putting his mouth a scarce few inches away.  Andrew could silence him so easily, but he didn’t.  “A year ago, I couldn’t even have imagined it.”    
  
No, probably not; a year ago, Neil was getting himself carved up by Riko’s knives, beaten black and blue by the Raven’s racquets.  A year ago, Neil was counting down the days until he planned to die, plotting the damage he would do on the way.  A flame of fury licked up Andrew’s spine and he slowly smothered it.  
  
“That’s because you’re an idiot,” Andrew said.  
  
“I’m your idiot, remember that.”  
  
His idiot.  Fuck.  Neil was his, because he was, in fact, an idiot; and Andrew could admit to himself in that moment that he was just as surely Neil’s.  Evidently Neil didn’t have the market on stupidity cornered.  “Shut up,” he said.  
  
“Make me.”  
  
Andrew wondered if he would ever get tired of this, of the taste and feel of Neil’s mouth.  He had never imagined the fascination would last this long; he had certainly never believed it would only grow over time.  Neil traced the faint groove down Andrew’s throat with his lips and tongue, earning a shiver.  Another thing Andrew had expected would suffer from exposure, but hadn’t.  
  
“Can I mark you?” Neil murmured against his neck.  
  
His first thought was no.  He had never allowed it from anyone else; he wasn’t sure he could bear the feel of teeth again.  But this was Neil, wanting; Neil, who under his clothes was covered with marks of Andrew’s doing on top of the scars from blades and bullets.  “Yes,” he said.  “My shoulder only.  Try not to use your teeth much.”  
  
Neil tugged the neck of Andrew’s shirt enough to expose the top of his shoulder, dragging his mouth slowly over the skin underneath.  Then he felt just the lightest press of teeth, followed by suction, and holy hell.  He gritted his teeth against the curse that formed as the pressure on his shoulder somehow went straight to his cock.    
  
Letting his head fall back, he looked up at the ceiling.  One of his hands had buried itself in Neil’s hair, the other was squeezing his side with an intensity that might have been excessive; Andrew couldn’t even tell.  He never understood how Neil could get him so undone with something so simple.  The suction increased until Andrew couldn’t take it anymore.  
  
“Neil,” he gritted out, and immediately Neil released him and retreated.  Andrew followed, and Neil’s concern shifted into a wicked grin when he took in Andrew’s expression.  Neil let Andrew push him back on the couch and crawl up his body, capturing his lips as soon as he was in reach.  But it was too much, it was all too much: Neil’s hot mouth and clever tongue, the feel of his lean body beneath him, their hard-ons pressing against each other, the slightest movement like an electric shock.  Andrew pulled back and dropped his forehead against Neil’s shoulder, struggling to regain his composure.  All he could think was how much he wanted to be in Neil, to feel completely enveloped by him, and he hated it.  Hated him, for making him feel this strongly.  
  
“It’s okay,” Neil murmured, stroking his fingers through Andrew’s hair, the one always safe place.  “We’re okay.”  
  
Andrew grabbed a fistful of Neil’s shirt and looked up at his face, his angry retort dying on his lips.  _This_ , he thought.  This was why they were what they were to each other, this perfect understanding.  Suddenly he knew he would never be able to deny their _this_ again.  “Shit.”  
  
Neil hummed.  “I take it that’s off the table then?”  
  
It took a second before Andrew caught up with Neil’s train of thought.  “Not completely.”  
  
“Good.  I liked it.”  
  
Of course he did.  Though Andrew would be lying if he didn’t feel the same way.  Maybe it was childish, but he liked knowing that Neil bore good marks, marks of his own doing, not just the evidence of hated and pain.    
  
Andrew let his cheek rest on Neil’s chest and closed his eyes, savoring the feel of fingers brushing against his scalp.  He never let himself do this in the dorm, or if the others were around, but it was one of his favorite things when they were alone like this.  Just that light soothing touch, not asking or taking.  
  
“You remind me of those camels,” Neil murmured after a while.  
  
Andrew snorted and looked up at Neil, whose face had gone delicately pink.  
  
“No, I mean…you’re so, I don’t know, bright and…and unexpected.”  
  
“You’re ridiculous.”  He kissed Neil with enough force to shut him up, to drive away any other stupid thoughts the junkie might be having.  If anything, it was the other way around: Neil had always been a force of strange beauty that took his breath away.  One he hadn’t been looking for, but who lit up his darkness anyway.    
  
It was almost midnight.  Another seven minutes and it would be Christmas Eve.  If they had had normal childhoods, they’d probably be excited.  As it was, they got ready for bed in the same near silence as they did every night.  Andrew didn’t trust himself still; the desire to take was too strong.  All he allowed his hand to do was trace the map of scars across Neil’s body, that memorized pattern that was as soothing as the routine of lighting a cigarette.  Neil sighed and rolled to face him, planes of his face softened and shadows deepened by the bluish moonlight coming through the window.  Andrew let his hand drop so the tips of his fingers were interlaced with Neil’s, watching him as his blinks slowed and his breathing deepened in the silence of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> The reindeer/Santa Christmas display is a real thing and the only one I saw in real life did in fact look like the reindeer was receiving head from Santa, which led to one of the funniest-ever moments with my mother-in-law. "Is...Is Santa orally pleasuring that reindeer?!?!" is a question I never expected to hear from her and I will never forget it. The camels are also real (and I WANT some).
> 
> Somehow I feel like there is more left to this story. We'll see if a part 3 works its way into my head.


End file.
